


Letters to Barca

by Pameluke



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Gay Relationship, Canonical Rape/Non-con, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Italian Mafia, M/M, References to Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:45:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pameluke/pseuds/Pameluke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barca returns home to Pietros after running for his life for two years, but the only reminder of Pietros are a bunch of letters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters to Barca

**Author's Note:**

> This is a modern mafia!AU, but the canonical things that happen to Pietros happen here as well. Everything happens off-screen, but if you're triggered by references to rape and suicide, it's probably safer to stay away.

 

The first thing Barca noticed when he entered the apartment was the smell: dusty and stale as if no-one had been there for a while. After a cursory glance around the apartment, Barca found an empty and cleaned out fridge, quite a bit of mail--most of it papers and advertisements--but no Pietros.

Barca had been prepared for Pietros to receive him with anger and resentment. He was willing to grovel and apologize and even to leave again. After all, he had been away for almost two years without so much of a word or explanation. But how do you explain that you are the last man standing of an old mafia family, that your rivals have come too close, that you had to hide for two years so they wouldn’t hurt you by killing the only person you loved left? He hadn't known how to explain, so he ended up saying nothing at all.

So Barca had readied himself for a fight, or for Pietros to have moved on, but somehow he hadn’t thought that Pietros might have left. The apartment was empty, and Barca had no idea where to even look for him.

When he entered the study, in search for any sign of where Pietros might have gone to, he immediately noticed the stack of letters bound together on the desk. When he picked them up to investigate, they turned out to be addressed to him, but marked unreceived and returned to sender.

There were about thirty letters, and Barca hurriedly opened the first one.

 

 

> _Dear Barca,_
> 
> _You left this morning, and I already miss you like crazy. I hate that you couldn’t tell me when you’ll return, or even where you’re going, and that this postbox address from your previous trip is the only way I have to reach you._
> 
> _One day you have to tell me what exactly it is you do for a living, because all this unexpected traveling and all these long hours are becoming a little too much. I just think you deserve a vacation you know? We should travel somewhere together one of these days. I’ve always wanted to visit Paris, and I think it would be incredibly romantic to visit the city of love with you._
> 
> _Secretly I hope you’ll miss this letter, because you’ll be on your way home again by the time it arrives._
> 
> _Don’t worry about the birds, I’ll take good care of them (maybe I’ll even spoil them! You’ll never know)._
> 
> _Just, be safe, and remember I love you. Always._
> 
>  
> 
> _Schmooches,_
> 
> _miss you,_
> 
> _xxx Pietros_

 

The following letters were more of the same: Pietros missing him, telling him to come back soon, little details about the birds. Barca inhaled each of them, rubbing the letters between his fingers where Pietros had pressed too hard on his pen when he was writing about something he cared deeply about.

After a while, the tone of the letters started to change.

 

 

> _Dear Barca,_
> 
> _Where are you? I haven’t heard from you in 3 months, and I’m starting to get really worried. No business trip should take this long. The birds and I are fine, but we miss you terribly. It’s lonely here without you._
> 
> _I keep writing these letters, and you never answer, I don’t even know if you’re still alive or if something maybe happened to you. Just let me know that you’re all right? Please._
> 
> _I love you,_
> 
> _xxx Pietros_

 

Barca had to swallow down the emotion in his throat. 

 

 

> _Dear Barca,_
> 
> _I’m not doing so well, the money is running out, and it’s hard to find a job in Rome, when I still don’t have any papers. I have to find one soon though, otherwise how else will I look after the birds? I’ll find something don’t you worry._
> 
> _Little Auctus’ wing is finally healed, and he flew out again today for the first time. He looked great out there._
> 
> _Love you always,_
> 
> _Pietros_

 

 

> _Dear Barca,_
> 
> _I found a job at a bar. It’s sleazy, and I don’t get paid enough for the long hours, but it’s that or not eat next month so I don’t have a choice really. The boss, Gnaeus, is a total creep who keeps leering at me, and he seriously freaks me out. I really wish you were here._
> 
> _Did you leave me without saying goodbye? Is this silence your way of telling me we’re over? I still love you and I know you loved me too. It’s just really hard to believe you still do when it’s been 6 months now since I’ve heard of you._
> 
> _I miss you so much. But I’m also angry with you. You don’t leave people you love like this. You let them know you’re safe and healthy and that you love them and will return to them._
> 
> _Please Barca, even if you don’t love me anymore, just let me know that you are all right._
> 
> _The birds miss you,_
> 
> _Pietros_

 

“Of course I still love you, little fool. I just couldn’t risk you”, Barca murmured while he opened the last letter. He hoped it would tell him where Pietros had gone to. His heart fell to his stomach when he noticed the tear-streaks and ink-smudges on the paper.

 

 

> _Barca,_
> 
> _I don’t know why I’m writing this, since you obviously don’t care enough to reply, but I have no-one else to tell this too, and I don’t know what to do anymore. I have no idea how to tell you this. I like to believe you’d be furious for me, and beat Gnaeus into the ground for me in revenge even if you don’t love me anymore. But I don’t even know if you even read these._
> 
> _It was a long shift at work, and I was responsible for clean-up that night. The only ones there were Gnaeus and I. He pinned me against the bar and told me to blow him or he’d fire me. I refused of course, and told him I had a boyfriend (Even now I still think of you as my boyfriend). I tried to get away and leave, but he punched me in the face and then... You get the picture._
> 
> _I don’t have money for a doctor, and obviously I’m not returning there to work. I feel horrible, everything hurts, and I feel so terribly, terribly dirty and afraid. He knows where I live, and I’m not sure he won’t come here as well. I’m so afraid Barca, and so alone. There’s no-one here that can help me._
> 
> _I can’t believe you’d leave me like this._
> 
> _Come home Barca, I really need you here. Just come home._
> 
> _Please, I beg you._
> 
> _Pietros._

 

Barca crumpled the letter in his fist. He was going to find Gnaeus and kill him. Slowly. No-one wanting to live touched someone he loved. He was going to beg for his life, and Barca would only kill him slower. But first he had to find Pietros.

When Barca entered the bedroom, it was as clean and musty as the rest of the apartment, but when he opened the closet to look for something clean to wear he was surprised to find all of Pietros’ clothes in their place. He wouldn’t have left without them, especially if he was low on money, so where on earth was he?

Then Barca noticed the envelope lying on his pillow. There was no name written on it, but it couldn’t be for anyone else but him.

 

 

> _Dear Barca,_
> 
> _Today all the letters I wrote you were returned. You never read them._
> 
> _I don’t know what happened, where we went wrong. I wish you’d just have told me you didn’t love me anymore. It would have broken my heart, but it’s still broken now, and it’s so much worse this way, not knowing why._
> 
> _I have little hope you’ll ever find this, but the apartment is in your name, so I assume you’ll eventually return here. I made sure to clean everything. I also let the bird-cages open so they can fend for themselves since I won’t be here to take care of them._
> 
> _They say this is a coward’s way out, but, I just lost too much. I lost my home and my family. I lost so many of my friends. I lost my body. I lost you._
> 
> _I lost you Barca, and it’s just too much._
> 
> _Know that I loved you until the end._
> 
> _Pietros_

 

Barca stared at the letter in his hands for a long time, not believing what he’d just read. When he finally looked up to the window, there were no pigeons flying about or cooing in their cages. Barca had returned home, but there was nothing of home left anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "A letter is found" for the fan-write-workshop.  
> Thanks to Jenna and Cass for reading over this and their helpful comments.


End file.
